


My Insufferable Neighbor

by Miss_Bennet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Real World, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, I don't know how it happened, I love my sons but they're idiots, I'm Sorry, Keith has a crush, M/M, Pining, They're both oblivious, also Shiro is being the Protective Dad, kidnapping and guns, lowkey Shiro/Allura, oh and eventually, poor anxious Keith, probably more guns than you expect, she/her pronouns for pidge, sort of, this fic escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8289113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Bennet/pseuds/Miss_Bennet
Summary: Neighbors AU. Lance is that annoying neighbor who listens to loud music in the middle of the night, and Keith just wants to sleep. During a series of bizarre situations which results in them working together and saving each other, Keith realizes that he has a terrible crush on his loud yet extremely cute neighbor. Anxiety, pining and embarrassing accidents ensue.





	1. Chapter One: I Didn’t Sign Up For This

**Author's Note:**

> The rating is for strong language and mild violence.  
> This is going to have three chapters and an epilogue, and this chapter is the shortest one, just so you know what you're in for.  
> Also, this was supposed to be a cute, fluffy neighbors AU fic, but somehow it escalated into something else entirely. Enjoy (and good luck) <3

Perhaps if it wasn’t the night before he had the midterm he dreaded the most, or if it wasn’t after he spent hours studying and torturing himself with notes and textbooks, then his reaction might have been different. But it was, and Keith was exhausted. The past three days were pure hell, and getting proper sleep was becoming increasingly harder. That night he was ready to get his well deserved six-hour sleep before this very important exam, which turned out to be impossible since someone decided to put on the most jarringly loud music he had ever heard.

At first he thought the music came from outside, so he closed the window. It sounded a little muffled now, but he could still distinctly hear the beat. Frustrated and irritated, Keith got off his bed. He put his jacket on and walked out of his apartment and into the hallway. The music was coming from the apartment next to his – no wonder he could clearly hear the music from his window. He knocked angrily on the door, and only after he tried it for the third time he heard someone lower the volume. The door was opened by a young man around his age. He was taller than Keith, but the first thought that came to his mind was – _I could definitely kick his ass in a fight._  To Keith’s great annoyance, he had a smug smile on his face, as if he did nothing wrong.

“Can you tone it done a bit?” Keith growled at him, “some of us are trying to sleep here, and your -“  
“ _Keith?_ ” the guy’s expression changed at once, from the smug smile into pure animosity, “you _live_ here?”  
Keith blinked. “Do we know each other?”  
At that, the tall guy looked incredulous. He audibly gasped, then answered as if Keith said something scandalous. “What do you mean _do we know each other?”_ he threw his hands up in disbelief, “I’m Lance! I’m your greatest rival!”  
“My… _Rival?_ ” Keith raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Unbelievable!” Lance exclaimed, “we had so many classes together! Not only did you always have better grades than mine, but I always got second place in every single contest because of you, and your projects were always the best. You’re the worst! I threw a paper airplane at you once.”

Keith squinted. “Ohhh,” he folded his arms over his chest, “you’re that asshole.”  
“Don’t tell me you live in this building!” Lance seemed to be terrified by the thought.  
“I live right next door,” Keith gestured in the direction of his apartment, “I moved in three days ago. Now I know who my annoying neighbor is. Are you the guy who was running around in the hallway yesterday, screaming something about fairy princesses?”  
“That,” Lance pointed a finger at him, “was a dare. And thank God you didn’t come out to check what was happening, because I was also naked at the time.”  
“I don’t want to know. Turn off that music,” said Keith, rubbing his eyes, “I need to get my sleep.”

“Lance? Who is it? What’s taking so long?” Came a male voice from inside the apartment.  
“Oh it’s just our neighbor, Jerk Doucheface” Lance called back, “he wants us to turn off the music so he can get some much needed beauty sleep.”

Another guy appeared beside Lance then. He was taller and larger in every way, but he seemed calmer and kinder. Keith thought that he’d seen his face before too, but he couldn’t recall a name.  
“Oh. Sorry, man,” the other guy said, “we didn’t know it was that loud. We’ll turn it down.”  
“Thank you,” said Keith.  
“What? Hunk! We’re not turning anything down!” Lance protested.  
“Come on Lance,” Hunk smiled as if he was talking to a child, “he’s right, we can’t keep people up with our noise. We can have fun quietly.”

Lance let out a long, exasperated sigh. Then, noticing that Keith was still standing there, he sent him an extremely annoyed look. “Hope you’re satisfied, you little – you… _Party-pooper!_ I hope you dream about murderous, creepy dolls. And werewolves.”  
“Sorry again, goodnight,” said Hunk politely before finally closing the door.

Keith sighed and walked back to his room. The music was considerably quieter now, though he could still hear it. It took him almost an hour to finally fall asleep, but at least he didn’t dream about murderous creepy dolls. Or werewolves.

* * *

 

Three days later Keith was coming back from some grocery shopping, bags in both hands and exhaustion clear on his face. As he stepped from the elevator into the hallway, he noticed Lance standing by the door to the third apartment on their floor. Keith had seen the people who lived in that apartment before – a guy he didn’t say one word to and his rather attractive sister, who introduced herself as Nyma and asked him a few questions once, but they never got the chance to speak properly.

Lance was leaning against the door frame, very obviously flirting with Nyma, who smiled back shyly at him. Keith walked by them without saying a word, setting the bags on the floor so he could dig in his backpack for his keys.

“So, Nyma,” Lance was saying, “a beautiful woman like you, I bet you have a boyfriend. Don’t you?”  
“No,” Nyma giggled, “I’m single. What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”  
Keith couldn’t find his keys. He almost took everything out of his backpack in the process of searching for them, and he was annoyed at himself. More than that, he hated standing there and overhearing the terribly embarrassing exchange between his neighbors.  
 “Nope,” Lance’s voice sounded so pleased Keith wanted to throw up, “I mean, there are many beautiful women who are trying to win my heart, but I don’t think I’ve found _the one_ just yet.”

Keith let out a sigh. Where did he put his damn keys? Did he drop them somewhere?  
“Oh I’m sure you’ll find her soon enough,” said Nyma, “maybe she’s closer than you think. Maybe she’s hiding in plain sight.”  
His wallet! He stuffed them into his wallet. Keith finally fished out his keys and opened his door.  
“Oh, Keith!” Nyma called just before Keith disappeared behind his door. He turned around and looked at her, questioningly.  
“There was some guy here looking for you earlier,” said Nyma, “said he’s been trying to reach you but you weren’t answering your phone.”  
It was probably Shiro, Keith promised to stop by and pick up the things he left at his place. He completely forgot.  
“Thanks,” Keith nodded, “have a good day.”

He finally closed the door and put away the groceries before calling Shiro back. Their conversation was quick and Shiro came over a couple of hours later, along with Allura, to bring over Keith’s belongings and to have some pizza with him.

“Your place is a mess,” Shiro commented as he moved away some boxes so he could walk around the coffee table and sit on the couch, “you’ve been here for like a week now, get it together, Keith.”  
“I know! I know,” Keith sighed, “I’ve been so stressed about school and midterms and my stupid neighbor who doesn’t let me sleep – “  
“Ooh, there’s a neighbor who keeps you up at night? You didn’t tell us anything about that,” said Shiro.  
“Not like that! It’s just some asshole who thinks it’s funny to play his disgusting music on full volume in the middle of the night,” Keith complained, “nothing worth mentioning.”  
“Have you talked to him?” Allura offered, “there’s nothing a good talk can’t solve.”  
“He’s as dumb as an empty trashcan,” said Keith, “I went over once and got him to lower the volume, only thanks to his somewhat nice roommate. He just attacked me back and refused to be civil, what an idiot.”  
“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” Allura smiled, “would you like me to talk to him? Perhaps he’ll find me more persuasive.”

Keith winced at the memory of Lance’s painful flirting with Nyma. “No,” he said firmly, “you don’t want to do that. I’ll just… Suffer quietly.”  
“Suffer Quietly should be your middle name,” said Shiro, “somehow, you’re always in pain.”  
“Somehow, I’m always surrounded by idiots,” Keith said, “and since I’m allergic to idiots, it only makes sense.”  
“Good thing you have us for friends then,” Shiro smiled.  
Keith faked a sneeze then, which earned him the middle finger from Shiro, and the conversation was abandoned for the sake of pizza and Allura’s story about the crazy day she’d had.

* * *

 

That night Keith couldn’t fall asleep once again. It was almost two in the morning, and the music from Lance’s apartment was absurdly loud. How it was possible that Keith was the only one to complain, he didn’t know.

This time he approached Lance’s door with furious determination. He rang the doorbell and knocked at the same time, hurting his knuckles with his angry knocking.  
Finally, the music was cut off and the door was opened.  
“You again,” Lance groaned.  
“If your obnoxious music wakes me up _one more time_ – “  
“Oh, what then?” Lance straightened his back, “what are you going to do? Are you going to fight me?”

Keith looked up at him, not intimidated by his height and his attempt to sound threatening. Keith was confident in his abilities, and he was always ready for a fight. “Yes,” he said, “I’ll fight you. I’ll fight you right now if you don’t drop that attitude.”  
“Oh yeah?” Lance stepped out of the apartment, his hands curling into fists, “come on then. Fight me.”

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He was already angry and irritated, and Lance’s face was driving him crazy. He launched forward, tackling Lance to the floor. At that point Hunk appeared in the doorway, and it took him less than a second to realize what was happening. Keith only got to land a couple of blows before he was violently yanked away from Lance by his shoulders.  
Someone else appeared at Lance’s side, checking on him at first but then restraining him when he sprung to his feet to get back at Keith.  
“Let go of me, Pidge,” Lance called, “I’m going to break his face!”  
The girl holding Lance back was barely fit for the task, so Hunk kept one hand on Keith’s chest as he came between them.  
“Calm down, both of you!” he said, “this is ridiculous. Keith, did you come to complain about the music again?”

“The whole building is awake because of you!” Keith looked at Lance as he said this. His ribs hurt from where he was hit with a knee, but he wasn’t going to show it. Lance’s brow was bleeding, which was a little satisfying, but he hoped to do more damage than that.  
“Lance, he has a legitimate complaint, we should be a little more considerate,” said Hunk, “and throwing punches will solve nothing. Knock it off.”  
Lance stopped struggling and Pidge finally let go of him. Keith huffed in annoyance and turned back to his apartment.

There was no music to keep him awake anymore, but the rage and adrenaline didn’t let him sleep either. He ended up thinking about Lance more than he cared to admit. He fantasized about going back there, pinning him to the floor and finishing what he started. At first he only thought about punching and kicking him. Then he imagined he had various weapons with him as well.

The thoughts were oddly satisfying and he finally fell asleep after killing Lance in his mind about five thousand times.

* * *

 

The next day brought a horrible revelation for Keith – the window of his bedroom was right next to the window in Lance’s bedroom.  
He was working on an assignment in his room, when he was disrupted by terrible off-key singing that came from the window. He looked outside with a scowl. “Hey!” he called, “stop singing! I’m trying to work over here!”  
The singing stopped. A moment later, Lance’s head popped out of his window.  
“Oh, great,” he grunted, “our windows are next to each other too? How did you even hear me? I was singing quietly to myself.”  
“You were singing as if you’re in a gigantic theater without a microphone, and you needed the people at the back to hear you very clearly.”  
“You think my singing is worth a performance in the theater? Well, I guess you’re right.”  
“You’re delusional.”  
“You’re boring and grumpy.”  
“I can live with that.”  
“Close your window.”  
“Close yours first.”  
“Fine.”  
“ _Fine._ ”

They both slammed their window shut. Keith tried to go back to his assignment, but it was hard to concentrate. He looked at his bruised knuckles and felt like he overreacted a little. Of course, it was in the heat of the moment and restraining himself was practically impossible, but now that the heat was gone and he was only mildly annoyed with Lance, it felt like a silly thing to fight over. He should’ve talked to Hunk instead, because Hunk was clearly more considerate and less explosive. Something about Lance made Keith’s blood boil. Just the thought of his stupid, oddly charming but incredibly annoying face made his muscles tense. An hour went by and Keith wrote barely three words.

He took a shower to clear his head, made some dinner and ate it, then went back to his assignment. This time he was determined to be productive, and he told himself that he wasn’t allowed to think about anything other than the task at hand.

Then he jumped with alarm as there was a knock on his window. It wasn’t possible, because he lived on the fifth floor and nobody could _just knock_ on it. For a moment he thought it was a bird, but then he approached the window, and was startled to see a broomstick outside. He opened the window carefully and realized that the broom was coming out of Lance’s window.

“What the hell are you doing?” Keith shouted at him  
“Oh, Keith! Is that you?” the broomstick went back inside.  
“Yes, who else could it be?” Keith replied.  
“Great, got your attention!” said Lance, “I need your help.”  
“No.”  
“Wait, listen!” Lance sounded desperate, “I found myself in… Quite the situation.”  
“Call your roommate then.”  
“I can’t,” Lance sighed, “he’s at Pidge’s place. They have a gaming night or some other nerdy thing they do together. It will take hours, and I can’t wait that long. Please, I really need to pee.”  
“And you want my help with _that?_ ” Keith raised his eyebrows. He noticed that Lance didn’t even stick his head out of the window, and it seemed suspicious.

“No! I need you to… Umm… You see, I’m kind of cuffed to a shelf.”  
“You’re… Cuffed… To a shelf?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why are you… Is that some weird sex thing?”  
“No! I wish. Well, it was supposed to be – “  
“I don’t want to know.”  
Lance sighed again. “It was Nyma,” he said, “she said that they’re moving. She told me that she wanted to say goodbye, so I invited her in. She was all flirty and seductive at first, and then she cuffed me to the shelf. Then she called her brother over, and they robbed the place. They took everything and went away.”

“What? _You were robbed?_ ”  
“Yes,” Lance breathed out, “now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking _‘why should I help this very handsome young man when just yesterday he beat my ass like the skilled, awesome fighter that he is?’_ “  
“I’m closing the window.”  
“No, wait! I’m sorry!” Lance called out, “just, please. I’m all alone, and I’ve been robbed, and my hand hurts, and I swear my bladder can’t take it anymore.”  
Keith was quiet for a moment. “Please tell me you’re not naked,” he said.  
“We didn’t get that far. Just hurry up, Keith!”

Keith didn’t want to hurry up. He didn’t want to help that loud, silly, inappropriate jackass. However, he wasn’t a bad person, and he realized that this was a serious situation – he was robbed and restrained, and he sounded absolutely helpless.

With a very deep sigh Keith walked out of his apartment and through Lance’s door, which was unlocked. Inside, their apartment was a mess. He’s never been there before, so he didn’t know which part was just their regular sloppiness and which was thanks to the robbery, but it was chaos.  
“Your apartment looks like shit,” Keith called out as he stepped around misplaced furniture and a pile of smashed dishes.  
“Thanks,” Lance called from inside his room, “now get your butt over here and help me get out!”

Keith finally found the door into Lance’s bedroom. There he was, kneeling on his bed beside the window. The shelf he was cuffed to was the one hanging above his bed, and in his free hand he was holding a broomstick.

“Did you just casually have a broomstick in your bedroom?” Keith asked, raising his eyebrows.  
“I used it as a microphone for the concert you heard me perform earlier,” Lance smiled, “now, do you have a saw maybe? Or something to break the cuff? She didn’t leave a key.”

Keith scratched the back of his head, thinking. “Do you have a hairpin?”  
Lance sent him his most sarcastic look. “Of course,” he said, “it’s right beside my makeup kit on top of my seventy pink dresses and lacy underwear.”  
“Boys can have hairpins,” said Keith indifferently, “stop being an asshole. Fine, I’ll find something else then.”

He looked around at the room. There were some office supplies on the desk, so he looked through them until he found some paper clips. He picked one up and tempered with it, first straightening it and then bending the end a little.  
“Are you going to pick the lock?” Lance raised his eyebrows at him. Keith nodded.

The locking mechanism of handcuffs was ridiculously easy, and Keith knew he could do it in seconds. Lance rolled his eyes as Keith seated himself on the bed beside him and examined the cuffs. He tugged a little on the end that was linked to the shelf, to check whether there was a double locking mechanism. There wasn’t, which made the job even easier.

“Of course you’d know how to pick a lock,” said Lance, “what can’t you do? Do you juggle? Can you play the piano? Do you cut your own hair? Wait, scratch that one. If you cut your own hair, then that’s one thing you can’t do.”  
Keith looked up at him with the coldest stare he could muster. “Maybe I’ll just leave you here to wet your pants and sit in a urine-soaked bed while waiting for Hunk to come back,” he said.  
“Your hair is glorious,” Lance immediately corrected himself, “I wish I had such a beautiful haircut. How’s that lock doing?”

“She used the cheapest handcuffs she could find,” said Keith as he twisted the paper clip a little more to find the leverage he needed. Then he pulled the cuff open a little to test it, and it worked. Lance was free.  
“Oh thank god!” Lance practically jumped off the bed. He disappeared behind a door, Keith assumed he went to the bathroom. He felt a little awkward sitting there all by himself, so he started maneuvering his way out of the room. He looked around a little, wondering how much damage was caused by this robbery.

“You should report them to the police,” Keith called aloud, “maybe they’ll be able to catch them.”  
Lance appeared a few moments later, drying his hands with a towel. “They’re probably long gone by now.”

“Hey, why didn’t you try to call for help while you were cuffed to the shelf? You could knock on my window before they were gone.”  
“I would, except Nyma was watching me, and she was quite intimidating with her gun,” said Lance casually.  
“You were held at gun point?” Keith was startled by the thought.  
“Well yes, and her brother had a gun as well. They’re more dangerous than they – oh no, my laptop is gone! Oh, man!” Lance finally noticed the mess that his living room was in and he started looking around, clutching at his head with despair as he realized how much they’ve lost.

Keith was impressed and a little worried by how little he seemed to care about the fact that his life was threatened. For such a dramatic guy, who reacted so strongly about his stolen possessions and being tricked by a beautiful woman, he barely said anything about being held at gun point by two dangerous criminals. Keith decided that it was probably shock, and he observed quietly as Lance almost started crying when he counted all of the expensive electronics that were stolen from them.

“Hunk is going to flip out!” he called miserably. Keith approached him, placing one hand on his shoulder. Lance turned around sharply and Keith took away his hand at once.  
“Hey,” Keith said quietly, “are you… Are you alright?”  
Lance considered his face for a moment. Keith looked at him seriously, with a hint of concern, putting aside his pride and his annoyance at his neighbor. He was always good at putting personal matters aside.

“Yes,” Lance shrugged, “they didn’t… Hurt me, or anything. Just pointed a gun at me. Not a big deal.”  
“Call Hunk,” said Keith, “make a list. And call the police, they need to know.”  
Lance nodded once, and Keith turned to leave. He wasn’t needed there anymore.  
“Hey, Keith?” Lance called after him. He stopped and looked back questioningly.  
“I guess… Thank you. It was kind of cool of you. You’re not completely lame.”  
“Don’t thank me,” said Keith, “stop playing your music at one in the morning, I’ll take that as a thank you.”  
“We don’t have speakers anymore, so there won’t be music for a while,” Lance's smile was bitter, “but I’m not going to admit that there’s anything wrong with my music anyway. It’s like a lullaby for you, try to enjoy it.”  
“Lullabies are quiet and soothing,” Keith commented, “not loud and jarring like the atrocity that you’re listening to.”  
“Fine, but you need to thank me too, anyway.”  
Keith sighed. “What for?”  
“I took a bullet for you,” Lance declared, “she could have robbed you, but thanks to my incredible flirting, I was the victim.”  
“I’d never fall for her flirting, even if you weren’t in the picture,” Keith spoke honestly.  
“What? Surely you would. She’s stunning. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a shitty person, but she’s a beautiful shitty person.”  
“Not my type,” Keith shrugged.  
“Not _your type?_ ” this seemed to be another scandalous topic for Lance, “oh, let me guess. You like your women dark and broody, like you. Very serious, never smiling.”  
“You’re way off,” Keith said, “and I’m not playing the guessing game. Bye, Lance.”

Lance was about to say something else, but Keith closed the door behind him. He felt strange, but he couldn’t tell why. Something had changed. It was the longest he’d ever been in Lance’s company, and he was… Not disliking it. Perhaps it was seeing Lance completely helpless and at his mercy, or perhaps it was that they finally spoke to each other in an almost civil way, but he wasn’t annoyed anymore. He even felt sorry for all they’d lost, and feeling concern for total strangers – especially ones who made an effort to annoy him – wasn’t like him.

He went back to his apartment and remembered that he had an assignment to complete. He managed to finish it without getting distracted, but before he fell asleep that night he spent almost two hours thinking about what happened and hating himself for obsessing over it.


	2. What Have I Ever Done To Deserve This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If they thought that the robbery was the worst thing that could happen to them, they were very wrong. Also, guess who the damsel in distress is this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the story escalated a little bit, but I hope you'll like the direction where this is going.  
> Comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading, you're all amazing <3

A whole week had passed before Keith had another reason to be mad at Lance. During that time someone else moved into the third apartment on their floor. Their new neighbor was a rather quiet but angry looking guy. Keith heard Lance try to talk to him exactly once, but the guy simply ignored him and didn’t say anything in return. Lance was deeply offended by such rudeness and didn’t try again, and Keith wasn’t even going to try for a first time. He wasn’t interested in socializing with his neighbors at all. He did, however, speak briefly to Hunk when they ran into each other on their way out. He found out that the police wasn’t able to catch Nyma and her brother, that Nyma was a fake name, that there was very little hope for them to ever get their possessions back, and that Hunk was basically heartbroken by all of that loss.

Keith felt truly sorry for them. That is, until that very evening, when “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion started playing from Lance’s bedroom.  
Keith stuck his head out of the window at once.  
“Lance!” he shouted, “what the hell are you doing?”  
Lance’s head popped out of his window. He held up a speaker with a brilliant smile.  
“Do you like our new speakers? I burrowed them from Pidge. You wanted something soothing for a lullaby,” the smile turned into a smirk, “isn’t this ‘quiet and soothing’?”  
“Turn it off,” said Keith, “before I grab my broomstick and come over to shove it up your ass.”  
Lance squinted. “I can’t tell if you’re threatening me or flirting with me.”  
“Turn. It. _Off._ ”  
“Okay, okay!” Lance disappeared into his room and a moment later the music was off.  
Keith was about to go back to bed, but Lance’s head popped back out.  
“Okay, I have another theory,” he said.  
“Another theory?”  
“About your type of women.”

Keith rolled his eyes. He could end it right there and then, but he was secretly a little curious to hear what his taste in women was according to this dumbass.

“Hear me out,” said Lance, “a shy girl in a sundress. Sitting in a library. She’s quiet, she’s reading a book. She’ll never approach you, so you have to approach her first. And when you compliment her, she blushes really hard. Right? Am I getting closer?”  
Keith tried not to laugh. “You’re way off.”  
“Still?”  
“Why aren’t you ever asleep at this hour?”  
“Why are you _always_ asleep at this hour?”  
“Because I’m a normal, sensible human being.”  
“Being sensible is for old, boring people.”  
“Goodnight, Lance.”

He closed the window without waiting for a response and went back to his bed. The song came back on, but it was a lot quieter now, and since Keith didn’t feel like getting out of his bed a second time, he decided to try and ignore it. Strangely enough, it helped him fall asleep faster. He wasn’t going to mention it to Lance, ever, and in the morning he felt deeply embarrassed by the thought of it.

* * *

 

A few days later Keith was out with Shiro and Allura, when they all decided to go back to his place to watch a movie. When they walked out of the elevator, Lance was just locking his apartment. Keith prayed that he won’t have to say anything, but nobody is ever that lucky. The moment Lance turned from the door and his eyes landed on Allura, there was no stopping him.

“Hello,” said Lance as he stood in front of a confused Allura, “my name is Lance. And you are..?”  
“Oh,” Allura raised finger in a knowing gesture, “this is your annoying neighbor, isn’t it?”  
“What?” Lance sent Keith a scolding look, “I am not annoying at all. If anything, he’s the annoying neighbor, constantly complaining, never having any fun and not letting us have any either. But I’m nothing like that, I’m very fun. I’m the definition of fun.”

Allura attempted a polite smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” she said as she stepped aside to walk around him. He took a step sideways as well, blocking her path again.  
“I didn’t catch your name,” he said, stumbling over his feet and almost crashing into the wall as he did.  
“Her name is Not Interested,” said Shiro from behind her, not exactly angry but certainly not enjoying this situation either.  
“Allura,” she said, “but he’s right, I’m not interested.”  
“Oh but surely, it’s just a matter of time,” Lance flashed a smile at her. Keith was having enough of this.  
He placed his palm on Lance’s face, pushed him aside effortlessly as they walked past him, and ignored his loud complaints as they proceeded to his apartment.  


“So _this_ is Lance,” said Shiro when the door was closed behind them.  
“Yes,” Keith answered.  
“I honestly can’t see why you like him. Sure, he’s not bad to look at, but honestly, Keith…”  
“Why I _like_ him?” Keith turned around sharply, he felt deeply offended.  
“Yes, you’re completely obsessed with this guy. Please tell me you’re aware of this.”  
“I’m – what? I hate him! He’s the most obnoxious, annoying, inappropriate – “  
“Really? Because I don’t see why you would talk about him so much then.”  
“Because he’s so annoying! And because he doesn’t let me live my life. I never say positive things about him!”  
“Do you ever listen to yourself at all?” Shiro crossed his arms over his chest, “just yesterday you’ve spent twenty seven minutes discussing his smile. Seriously, I had my eyes on the clock. Twenty seven minutes, just about the smile.”  
“It’s a very annoying smile,” Keith defended himself, “he’s just so satisfied with himself.”  
“Yes yes I’ve heard you the first million times,” Shiro sighed, “I also recall you saying how you wish you could be as bold and confident, how you’re not sure whether he’s delusional or just really proud to be himself, and oh! How he apparently plays lullabies for you at night…? As if that’s a normal thing that neighbors just do, platonically, in a neighborly fashion?”

“It was _one time_ ,” Keith growled, “and it was to taunt me! Frankly, the fact that I kind of liked it means his plan backfired.”  
“Just listen to yourself,” said Shiro with a content smile, “I’ve seen you act like that before, when you have a crush. You always hide behind fake hatred and complaints, because you’re afraid to admit that you _like_ him.”

Keith felt suddenly hot, and he knew that his cheeks must be very red. He turned to Allura for help, but before he could open his mouth she raised her hands.  
“Don’t look at me,” she said, “he knows you better. I’d say he’s probably right.”  
“Fine,” Keith threw his hands in despair, “I’m not going to talk about him anymore.”

They tried to convince him that it was alright and that he had to face it, but Keith didn’t want to talk about it. After they were gone and he was left by himself, Keith couldn’t get it out of his head.

By that point Keith knew that there was some truth to Shiro’s words. He didn’t really hate Lance as much as he pretended to, and whenever he replied to Lance with a mean comment it was his defense mechanism more than anything, since admitting that he liked Lance more than Lance liked him was not an option. But then, when Shiro put it like that, it made everything worse.

He wasn’t even aware of how many of these thoughts he voiced on a daily basis. Much less he was aware of how these thoughts sounded fond of Lance in a more than just a friendly way. Up until then he knew that his animosity was fake and unintentional, but he didn’t even consider the fact that he might be _attracted_ to Lance.

Was he, really? Of course, he did have a nice face, charming eyes, an admittedly great backside and –  
Oh no. He really did have a crush.

Keith immediately hated himself and went to take a cold shower. This was not good. He didn’t need this. Being obsessed with his loud, probably straight, trouble-magnet of a neighbor who hated him was the opposite of what he needed at the moment.

He got out of the shower and decided to cook some dinner. It’s been a while since he actually cooked anything more complicated than ramen noodles or used a heat source other than a microwave, but he decided it would take his mind off of this. Except he ran out of salt, and he couldn’t cook without salt.  
Keith went through all of his cabinets four times before letting out a long, deep sigh. He grabbed a cup, put on his jacket and walked out, praying that Hunk will be the one to open the door.

He wasn’t.  
Of course he wasn’t, why would anything ever happen the way Keith needed it to happen?

“Keith,” Lance folded his hands over his chest, “did Allura ask about me? What does she think about me?”  
“She thinks that you’re an ass,” said Keith indifferently, “is Hunk home?”  
“Hunk? What do you need with Hunk? Are you two hanging out now behind my back? Is this betrayal I sense?”  
“Nevermind, I’ll go ask neighbors from a different floor,” said Keith, already turning around.  
“No no, wait!” Lance called and he stopped. “Come on, what do you need? You uncuffed me from a shelf once, I’m sure I can spare a cup of sugar for you.”  
“Salt,” said Keith, turning back to face him, “I need salt.”  
“Really?” Lance raised his eyebrows, “but you’re so salty already. Are you sure you don’t need sugar instead?”  
“This was a terrible idea.”  
“No no, okay, I’m sorry,” Lance stopped him before he could turn again, “come on in, we have plenty of salt.”

Their apartment looked a lot better now than the last time he’d been there. It was still rather messy, but it was a sensible mess. Their kitchen, however, was better than he expected.  
“Hunk cooks a lot,” said Lance, “he has all kinds of spices, so if you need anything else, feel free to take it. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, he’ll even share recipes with you.”  
“I just need the salt,” Keith shrugged. Lance took the cup from him and searched for the salt.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about it,” said Lance as he pulled the salt off a shelf, “I have a new theory. You have a thing against blondes. Nyma isn’t your type because of her hair. Correct?”  
“Nothing against blond hair,” said Keith.  
“Damn, I was pretty sure about that,” Lance filled Keith’s cup, spilling quite a lot of the salt onto the counter, “well, am I getting warmer? Is it, like, one feature in her that threw you off?”

“It’s one very substantial feature, yes,” Keith was slightly amused, “I guess you could say that.”  
“Her freaky eyes? Those were contacts, you know. Oh! Is it her contacts?”  
“No,” Keith shook his head.  
“Was she too thin? Do you like curvy women?”  
“It was definitely not that.”  
“Her… Voice?”  
“No.”  
“Her… Hands?”

Keith was rapidly getting tired of this game. “ _Her being a woman,”_ he said at last, taking his cup of salt from Lance.  
Lance’s jaw dropped open.  
“Seriously?”  
Keith winced a little. He wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, but every time he mentioned it to someone for the first time his heart skipped a beat as he anticipated their reaction. And this was not exactly what he hoped for, but then Lance kept talking.  
“ _That’s it?_ This whole time I was trying to figure out how I got it wrong and all I was looking for is a penis?”  
Keith let out a laugh. “As much as I am amused by your phrasing,” he said, “some men don’t have penises, and some women do, so that’s not accurate. All you were looking for is a man, yes.”  
“You ruined everything!” Lance whined, “you were supposed to correct me right away, and then I could guess what your type is, just using the correct pronouns.”

“You were trying to figure out what was wrong with Nyma,” Keith reminded him, “now you know.”  
Lance waved a hand at him. “It was never about that,” he said, “it was me trying to read you better, because I’m really good at reading people.”  
“Clearly, you did so spectacularly.”  
“Fine, so I don’t have a gaydar, sue me.”  
“None of your assumptions were correct even if you were to use the correct pronouns.”  
“Well of course you’re not attracted to men in sundresses!”  
Keith considered it. “I wouldn’t mind a man in a sundress.”

“Fine, I give up,” Lance sighed, “you’re unreadable. You’re a mystery. You win, _again._ Happy?”  
“I wasn’t aware that this is another made up competition you created in your mind in order to feel better about yourself.”  
“Well, next time I’m going to win.”  
“Maybe let me know beforehand, next time,” Keith smiled a little.

They stared at each other for a moment. Keith caught himself examining Lance’s rather attractive face. He never noticed the tiny creases beside his eyes that were probably there from laughing so much, and he never noticed that Lance had a rather cute nose, and he never noticed –  
“Is there something wrong with my face?” Lance asked, touching his nose as if there might be something on it.

“Um, no, not at all, nothing wrong – nothing wrong with your face. It’s a fine - your face is fine,” Keith stuttered. This was probably the most embarrassing thing that ever came out of his mouth.  
Lance seemed amused. “I have a fine face? Well, thank you, that’s very – “  
“Okay I got my salt so I better go, bye,” said Keith without looking back as he turned so quickly his head started spinning and walked out the door. If Lance said something after him, he didn’t hear it.

* * *

 

“I’m screwed,” Keith said the next day as he talked to Shiro on the phone, “this is a disaster. You have to help me.”  
“I don’t see how and why,” Shiro sounded too amused to Keith’s liking, “just ask him out.”  
“He’s probably straight,” Keith sighed, “or did you miss that embarrassing attempt at flirting with Allura? Because I was definitely there.”  
“Just because he likes women doesn’t mean he’s straight,” Shiro reminded him helpfully, “maybe you should ask him about it?”

“How do you imagine me doing it, exactly?” Keith felt irritated, “I can’t just go up to him and say _‘so, on a scale of uncooked spaghetti to a curly fry, how straight are you?’_ ”  
“That sounds like a sentence he would like, try that.”  
“I’m not trying that!”  
“Why are you asking for advice when you’re clearly not going to follow it?”  
“I was expecting good advice.”  
“I’m not really an expert on seducing men.”  
“Oh my God, Shiro, I’m not trying to seduce him!”

Shiro laughed heartily and Keith didn’t want to talk to him about it anymore. He should’ve known better, Shiro was never helpful when it came to romance. How he ever managed to win over Allura’s heart was a mystery for Keith.

* * *

 

Two days later, Keith was struggling to fall asleep when he heard the song “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” play from Lance’s bedroom. He wrapped himself in his blanket and approached the window.  
Sure enough, Lance was there, holding a speaker and looking expectantly at Keith.  
“What about this one?” he grinned, “soothing enough for you?”

Keith had other thoughts occupying his mind. He had the urge to talk to Lance about many different things, and he didn’t know how, so he came up with an idea. It was probably a bad idea, and he was ready to regret it later, but he was willing to try it for now.  
“Fine, now it’s my turn,” Keith said. Lance was confused for a moment, and he put the speaker away so the song was now quiet in the background.  
“Your type of women,” Keith started, “is literally any woman. You’d hit on anyone, anywhere, ever.”  
Lance smiled at him for a moment, but then he shook his head. “I thought you didn’t want to play, but alright. Is that really your guess though?” he sounded disappointed, “even I have standards. For example, I wouldn’t hit on anyone who is more than four years younger than me. Or someone who is really, really old. No 70 year old grandmas for me.”  
“So 69 is fine?”  
“Oh,” Lance’s smile turned into something sly and satisfied, “69 is way more than fine.”  
Keith rolled his eyes so hard it physically hurt him. “I walked right into that one,” he said, disappointed in himself.

“But seriously,” said Lance, as if he was capable of being serious, “I have a type. I’m not going to tell you about it, because that’s not part of the game, but of course I have a type. Try harder.”  
“I’ll think about it,” said Keith, “I must be better than you at reading people.”  
They were quiet for a long moment, but Keith wasn’t uncomfortable with the silence. He noticed that the song was over, so now they were only listening to the sounds of the street outside.

“Our new neighbor is up to no good,” said Lance all of a sudden, “I’m pretty sure he’s a drug dealer or something like that.”  
“Why do you think that?”  
“I don’t know,” Lance shrugged, “but there were some sketchy men over at his apartment and one of them dropped a package that seemed extremely suspicious to me. And when he saw me watching them he barked at me to mind my own business. What a freak.”  
“It could be nothing,” Keith tried to sound neutral, “but maybe don’t flirt with him and invite him into your house.”

“But that’s exactly what I was about to do,” Lance’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “he’s such a fine man! I’m especially drawn to his crazy eyes and constant sniffling.”  
“I’m just saying,” Keith shook his head a little, “don’t do anything reckless. You have a tendency to overreact and an inability to shut your mouth. Don’t get yourself in trouble.”  
“Got it.”  
“I’m serious, Lance,” Keith turned to look at him, “I might not be there next time you need someone to free you.”  
“You’ll never forget it, will you?”  
“You being a damsel in distress, me showing you incredible kindness which should be greatly appreciated? No, I don’t think I will.”

A small smile rose to Lance’s lips. “Fine,” he said, “someday you’ll be the damsel in distress and I’ll show incredible kindness to you, and I won’t forget that either. Oh, and since you’ve joined the game, I’m going to keep guessing too. You won’t get to win this time.”  
“Yes I will,” said Keith, “I bet your type is way easier to guess than mine.”  
“You don’t know me well enough to bet on that,” said Lance rather seriously, “you might be surprised. Alright then, go back to sleep now. I’ll put the song back on.”  
“I hate you,” said Keith with no animosity whatsoever. Lance seemed to take that as a compliment.  
“Right back at you,” he said with the same friendly tone, “goodnight, Keith.”  
“Goodnight.”

It was not, in fact, a good night.

Long after he closed the window and went back to his bed, Keith kept replaying their conversation in his head. Despite their constant mocking of each other and their jokes about rivalry, there was something much more resembling a friendship between them now. Keith hated to admit that he secretly enjoyed the teasing and the joking, that Lance’s ridiculousness was amusing, that hiding his smile was becoming impossible and that he felt irrationally happy. He was aware of the fact that there was no way this could ever turn into anything romantic, but for now he was perfectly fine with whatever there was between them. Perhaps they could be friends. Perhaps he could learn to tolerate Lance’s constant flirting with every pretty girl who walks by him.  
But that didn’t stop him from fantasizing, and dreaming, and sighing wishfully like a thirteen year old girl thinking about her first crush, and hating himself for all of it.

* * *

 

A few days later, Keith did exactly what he told Lance not to do and got himself in trouble. Shiro came to pick him up and was parked outside of the building. Keith locked his apartment and started texting him to let him know that he was on his way, then he froze. The door of their new neighbor’s apartment was unlocked and a little open, and a sharp cry came from inside, followed by a loud thump. He wasn’t one to think twice before jumping to someone’s aid, so he acted without thinking and walked through the door.

Keith stumbled into the living room, and in front of him was a peculiar scene – their tall, muscular neighbor was holding a bloodstained vase in his hands. At his feet was a man, face down on the floor, the back of his head darkened with blood.  
The situation was obviously not in Keith’s favor. This man was larger than him, stronger than him, definitely dangerous and capable of knocking someone out with a vase, and they were on his territory. All of those things were supposed to bring him to a very sensible conclusion – that he should run away as fast as he could.  
And Keith would do exactly that, if he was a perfectly calm human being capable of ignoring his instincts and acting with a cold, rational mind.  
Except he wasn’t.

He swung at his neighbor with everything he had and counted on his instincts to lead him. The man stumbled backwards at first and the vase fell from his hands and rolled away, but he immediately regained his balance and punched Keith in the face so hard his vision went dark for a moment. He fell to the floor, blinking rapidly until his head stopped spinning and his vision wasn’t blurry. There was blood. It took him a moment to understand that his nose was bleeding, but that didn’t matter, because he had to get back on his feet and see where the other man was. When he pulled himself up at last he realized that he had lost this battle. While he was down on the floor, the man walked over to the counter and grabbed a gun, which he was now confidently pointed at Keith.  
  
“Why does everyone suddenly have guns?” Keith muttered under his breath.  
“Quiet!” the man barked, “stand by that wall over there.”  
Keith obeyed, watching the gun pointed at him with nervous eyes. When he stood with his back pressed to the wall, the man ordered him to turn around. Being unable to see his attacker filled him with panic, but his heart sunk completely when he heard the front door being closed and locked. They were alone. Keith glanced backwards and saw his phone, where it rolled away to the corner of the room. The situation was completely hopeless, and he felt like he was about to faint from how terrified he was.

“Turn around,” the man ordered and Keith obeyed once again. The blood from his nose stained his shirt and he spit it out as it slipped between his lips. The tall man then led him to a different room, which was completely dark and filled him with even more terror. Keith was led to a chair and told to sit on it, then he was tied down with his wrists behind his back and his ankles strapped to the chair. Then the man walked away, and the room was pitch black again as the door closed behind him.

Keith was helpless. The blood kept spilling from his nose, his wrists were tied way too tightly and his whole body buzzed with overwhelming fear. He could probably move a little with the chair if he tried, but the room was too dark for him to see what was around him, and he wouldn’t be able to go far with it anyway, so he didn’t try.  
With nothing for him to see, he tried to listen to what the man was doing in the living room. Keith guessed that it wouldn’t take long before the man took care of whatever it was he had to do with the other man he knocked out, and then he would come to get rid of him. His death was just a matter of time now. There was all kind of noise from that living room, but Keith wasn’t very good at identifying it – moving furniture? Something dropping to the floor? Some talking – perhaps the man was speaking on the phone? He thought he heard his own phone ringing, and thoughts about his friends flooded him at once. Shiro and Allura were probably still waiting for him. Eventually, they must come up looking for him. But they’ll never know to search for him in his neighbor’s apartment, and by the time they find out what happened it will be too late. Maybe they’ll never find out what happened. Maybe this man was too good, and he will get rid of the evidence well enough and nobody would ever question him. Perhaps Lance might question him – he was already suspicious before. Keith couldn’t help but smile a little as he imagined Lance interrogating that man with the cute squinting face he made whenever he thought someone was conspiring against him.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but after what felt like forever, he heard a knock on the front door. And then there was terrible raucous – shattering glass, shouts, crashes and thumps. Finally, the door in front of Keith opened and Keith squinted at the bright light. He didn’t see who was standing there.

“Keith!” said a familiar voice, “shit. What happened to your face? Where is the light in this place?”  
Lance found the light switch and Keith blinked rapidly as he was temporarily blinded. Lance was staring behind Keith at the rest of the room, he looked a little confused. “What the hell is… Nevermind, I don’t care. Are you badly hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”  
Lance kneeled behind Keith to set him free from the ropes, and Keith immediately took off his shirt and pressed it to his nose. He didn’t know whether he was still bleeding, but he didn’t want to take that chance.

“It’s just a nosebleed,” Keith said. When he looked at Lance, he caught him staring at his exposed abdomen exactly one second before he came back to his senses.  
“Right, cool,” he said, “that’s good. It’s just a lot of blood, and that douchebag had a gun.”  
Keith turned around to look at the rest of the room. Now that the light was on, he could see that it was filled with piles of boxes, sacks and sealed packages from floor to ceiling. He didn’t expect that, but he didn’t really care either.

Lance led him to the living room, where everything was even more chaotic than Keith imagined. Furniture was askew and many items were broken. In the middle of the room their large neighbor was pressed with his face down to the floor, with Hunk tying his wrists behind his back and Pidge standing over him with his own gun in her hands. On the couch was the man he previously saw lying on the floor. He wasn’t dead, but by the way Allura pressed a bag of ice to his head, it seemed that he was badly injured. Shiro was giving the address to someone on the phone, Keith assumed it was the police, and everyone turned to stare at Keith.  
“What are you all doing here?” he asked.  
“Shiro received a very worrying text from you,” Lance explained, “which started out just fine and ended with ‘jikhn’, which is not an English word according to the dictionary. So he thought you might have fallen down the stairs or something.”  
“It took you too long to come out,” Allura continued, “so we came up to make sure you were okay. But your door was locked and you didn’t answer the phone. We started knocking, we almost broke down your door.”

“And then,” Pidge spoke, not taking her eyes off of the evil neighbor man, “the three of us woke up from all of the noise and Lance went out to complain. We followed because we wanted to watch.”

“And then they told us what happened,” Lance continued, “so we started thinking about where you could possibly disappear, between your locked apartment and Shiro’s car. There were many interesting theories. We bonded. Did you know that Pidge and Shiro know each other, by the way? Apparently her brother works with him or whatever. Anyway! That’s when Shiro called your number again and we distinctly heard your phone ringing from behind this door. I casually mentioned that our neighbor is very suspicious and probably a criminal, so we knocked on his door just in case you were there for friendly purposes. And he didn’t open the door, even though we could clearly hear that there was someone inside. So Shiro flipped out, broke down the door like some kind of Superman, I swear to God!”  
“It was pretty cool,” Hunk commented.  
“And then we attacked this dude and we were like ‘where is our friend?’ and he was like ‘fuck you!’ and we were like ‘eat shit, motherfucker!’ “  
“Okay that’s a lie,” said Pidge, “but we did attack him all together, and five on one is not very fair, so there you have it.”

“Whoa,” said Keith, his head was spinning a little from losing quite a lot of blood and receiving too much information, “that’s… That’s one hell of a story.”  
“The police are on their way,” Shiro announced as he put away the phone. Then he seemed to notice Keith. “Are you hurt?” he asked, “an ambulance is on its way too.”  
“It’s just a nosebleed,” Keith said once again with a shrug of his shoulders.  
“Go wash your face,” Shiro ordered him, “and put something cold on it.”

Keith nodded and went to look for the bathroom. He bent over the sink and watched as the blood mixed with the water in a swirl and disappeared down the drain. The bleeding had finally stopped. When he turned away from the sink, Lance was standing there with a towel in his hand and a bag of ice.

“I thought you might want to – um,” his eyes hovered over Keith’s naked torso, “you’re all wet and bloody. Here,” he handed him the towel.  
“Thanks,” Keith took it and wiped away what remained of his blood and the water.  
“Okay, now put some ice on your face,” Lance helped him wrap the ice in the towel and he pressed it to his nose.  
“Keith,” Lance’s voice was a lot softer than he expected, “are you… Are you okay?”  
“Yeah,” Keith shrugged, “it’s not even broken, it’ll be fine.”

“That’s good to know, but I don’t mean your nose,” Lance’s stance was a little awkward as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, “you were kind of kidnapped by some sketchy dude with a gun. I know how it feels, sort of.”  
“I’m fine,” Keith shrugged, “although I did think that I was about to die back there. I guess it was a little scary.”  
“Do you want to… Talk about it?” Lance’s voice shook a little, and Keith looked into his eyes, trying to understand this sudden display of honesty and sensitivity.  
“I’m a little surprised,” he admitted, “that you even care.”  
“Come on, Keith,” Lance breathed out slowly, “I know we started out rough, and I know we’ve been rivals for a long time, but I mean… You saved me from almost peeing my pants, I saved your life AND gave you a whole cup of salt. That must count for something.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “So do you consider us to be… _Not exactly enemies?”_  
“Cut the crap,” Lance punched him lightly on the shoulder, “we’re friends, like it or not. And by the way, since you’ve been the damsel in distress today, I think we can call it even now.”  
“We’re not keeping score,” said Keith, “is everything a competition to you?”  
“When it comes to you it is,” said Lance, “and I’m going to win someday.”  
“Well, I wouldn’t care if you do,” Keith shrugged.  
“Liar,” Lance pointed a finger at him, “you love winning. And you love a challenge, and you love making me lose. Which will only make it more fun for me when I win.”  
“Fine,” Keith sighed, “whatever makes you feel better.” He turned away and walked out of the bathroom, unable to hide his smile any longer.

After they were done speaking to the police, Lance invited everyone to their place for a movie and some snacks. Keith had to stop by his place to change his clothes first, and when he joined them the movie was already on. They were all rather quiet after what happened, but it was a nice and comfortable silence. As Keith sat on the couch beside Hunk, he couldn’t help but look over at Lance. It was the first time he ever got a chance to properly observe Lance from a distance, while he was busy watching the movie and stuffing popcorn into his mouth. Keith wondered what about this giant dork of a boy caught his eye in the first place, and though he couldn’t see what was special about him, he also couldn’t find a flaw that would make him stop thinking his stupid, affectionate thoughts. Soon enough Lance caught him staring, so he forced himself to keep his eyes on the movie.

* * *

 

A few days later he was only about to go to sleep when he heard the soft notes of “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera. He smiled for a moment before approaching the window and looking over at Lance’s grinning face.  
“Is this your way of telling me that you think I’m beautiful?”  
“Finally,” Lance rolled his eyes, “I was waiting for you to realize that all of those songs are in fact messages. Somewhere Over The Rainbow was obviously about how gay you are.”

“I knew it,” Keith looked away so he wouldn’t see him smile, “and the Celine Dion one?”  
“I didn’t like you then yet, so it was about how I wanted you to hit an iceberg and drown.”  
“Wait, does this mean that you like me now?” Keith raised his eyebrows.  
“Shut up,” Lance smirked at him, “but that reminds me of our game. We need to keep it going, and I think I have an idea. Since we’re both playing now, let’s do a lightening round of sorts. Each of us will have three turns, each turn we can try to guess one trait that the other one likes. It can be appearance, personality, or just whatever. And we have to answer yes or no, truthfully. Deal?”

Keith considered it for a moment. “Sounds fair.”  
“I’ll start!” said Lance enthusiastically, “Umm… Smart.”  
Keith thought about it. “Yes,” he said, “funny?”  
“Yes,” Lance didn’t hesitate, “tall?”  
“I mean, why not,” Keith shrugged, “strong? And I don’t mean physically.”  
“Oh, yes,” Lance nodded, “but physical strength is definitely a turn on as well. Alright, it’s my last one, so how about… Passionate?”  
“As in, someone who really cares about something they like?”  
“Yes, and also, romantically.”  
“Passion is good, I guess,” said Keith.  
“Alright. You still have one left.”

Keith knew what he wanted to ask, and he knew it would be a little bold of him, and his face was already turning red. He hoped Lance wouldn’t notice.

“A woman?”  
There was silence for a long moment.  
“Shit,” Lance said.  
“Sorry,” Keith panicked, “too personal? You don’t have to answer.”  
“No,” Lance smiled, but the smile was a nervous one, “I just don’t think I have an answer. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone but women. But, you know. It might be a possibility, if the right person comes along. I don’t know, it’s hard to tell.”

“It’s cool,” Keith reassured him, “you don’t have to decide now. Or ever. Labels can make your life easier, but you don’t have to put yourself in a box if you don’t want to.”  
“Are you in a box?”  
“I’m very gay,” Keith smiled, “completely. Absolutely gay.”  
“Sounds nice. Nice that you’re so sure.”  
“Don’t pressure yourself,” Keith felt a little nervous talking about it, which was weird because Lance was the confused one, “not everyone can know right away. Sexuality isn’t a solid thing set in stone. Let it do its thing, observe it, communicate with it. You’ll get there eventually.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, but then he shook himself out of it a little, “so we’re tied for now. But we have some new information, so we should be ready to draw conclusions and maybe I’ll finally win.”  
“We’ll see about that.”  
“Oh,” Lance smiled, “have you seen our new neighbor already?”  
“No,” Keith paused, “please tell me it’s someone sane and non-threatening.”  
“It’s this really old woman,” said Lance, “she looks quite innocent, but with our history, we probably shouldn’t trust her.”  
“How old is she?” Keith asked suspiciously.  
“I don’t know, like, 70 years old.”  
“Thank God,” Keith faked a sigh of relief, “one year younger and you’d be pining after her like a teenage girl by now.”  
“Oh haha, so funny,” said Lance sarcastically, “try not to get kidnapped by the old lady.”  
“Try not to be seduced by the old lady.”  
“I can’t promise you that,” Lance winked at him.  
“You’re terrible and I hate you.”  
“You don’t hate me.”  
Keith looked away.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice became a little quieter, “I know this is just something that we do, but... You don’t hate me anymore, right?”  
“I don’t hate you anymore,” Keith admitted very quietly, “you are crazy and you get under my skin, but no. No hatred.”

They were silent for a moment.  
“Goodnight Keith,” Lance said at last, “I don’t hate you either.”  
“Goodnight.”

Keith collapsed onto his bed and buried his face in the pillow. This was going to drive him insane. He immediately started obsessing over the conversation, and the song started playing again, as it usually did. For some reason it gave him goosebumps, even though it wasn’t the kind of music he liked and he’d never really listened to the words of this song.  
Just before he fell asleep he realized that he was feeling strangely warm and elated. He recognized the feeling with dread. He was being hopeful, which was never a good sign.  
Keith could already feel his heart about to be broken by a boy he never intended to even tolerate, and it was going to hurt, and he was going to try and postpone this terrible doom as much as possible.


	3. And I Honestly Thought This Couldn’t Get Any Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you think that the craziness is over, it gets even crazier.

A few things changed over the next few days. The main thing was – the two groups of friends merged into one. Pidge, Hunk and Shiro found out that they had a lot in common and started hanging out together, Keith discovered that his conversations with Hunk were always fun and could never go wrong and Allura enjoyed hearing everybody out and sharing some of her wisdom and advice. Even though Keith didn’t manage to bring himself to say what he really wanted to say to Lance, he enjoyed the fact that their friends were getting along. He also enjoyed the fact that Lance stopped looking at Allura the way he used to, which meant that Keith didn’t have to watch him tastelessly flirt with anyone again, and that was a relief.

Their new neighbor, Mrs. Robinson, turned out to be a very sweet old lady. She always had a kind smile on her lips, the same pair of pearl earrings in her ears, and a considerate compliment to anyone she bumped into. Even though Keith didn’t enjoy socializing with anyone, he had to admit that Mrs. Robinson was the nicest person he’d ever met, and he didn’t even mind when she asked him personal questions.

 

One day there was a knock on Keith’s door. It was loud and persistent, and it didn’t stop even when he called out “I’m coming!” so he wasn’t surprised to see Lance when he opened the door.  
“I need you to give me some sugar,” he said with a brilliant smile.  
Keith’s eyes widened. “W-what?”  
Lance then raised the cup he was holding. “We ran out of sugar,” he explained, “Hunk is pissed off because he can’t drink his tea without sugar. May I have some of yours?”  
Keith sighed and opened the door for Lance to come in.

He was suddenly very aware of the fact that Lance has never seen the inside of his apartment before. He hoped there was nothing embarrassing lying in plain sight.  
“Ew, why is your place so neat?” Lance complained as he looked around, “do you ever let dust enter your house? What the hell?”

Keith ignored this and headed straight to his kitchen to search for the sugar.  
“Wow,” Lance commented as he shamelessly looked through his cabinets, “you really like your spices. I can’t believe I offered you some of Hunk’s, you have almost twice as many. Dude, what are you, a professional chef?”

What happened next was so surreal for Keith, he could never explain it. For some reason he decided that it would be a good idea to say something incredibly out of line, something that was the opposite of what he presented to Lance, and he only realized what he’s done after the words left his mouth.

“I like my food the way I like my men, extremely fucking hot.”

Lance blinked with shock for a moment. “Wow,” he said at last, “that’s… Unexpected.”  
“What can I say,” Keith concentrated on keeping his voice steady, “I’m full of surprises.”

They froze. Keith finally realized what he’d just done, and he was now panicking. He had no idea what expression was on his face, but Lance was studying it very carefully, and he stared back at him intently with his best effort to hide his terror.

“Okay, this is going to sound very weird,” Lance said softly, “especially since I’m the king of flirting and I should know, but… Is that you flirting with me? I don’t think I can tell.”

Keith’s eyes betrayed how terrified he was for exactly one moment before his defense mechanism kicked in. He roared with laughter.  
He laughed so hard that he almost fell to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself. Lance started chuckling nervously as well, but Keith couldn’t calm it down even when he knew he was overdoing it. Finally, he forced himself to breathe in deeply and stop. “I’m definitely not flirting with you,” he said at last, wiping tears out of his eyes, “sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh so hard. You just caught me by surprise.”  
“Hey, well I don’t think it’s that funny,” Lance sounded a little offended, “I’m a handsome young man, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m irresistible.”  
“Right, well, somehow I still manage to keep it in my pants. Now go back home, before Hunk loses it completely.”  
“You’re right,” Lance smiled as he took the sugar from Keith, “he might turn to murder.”  
“That would be extremely tragic.”

Keith closed the door behind Lance and immediately fell to lie face down on the floor. He wanted to scream. After lying there for about twenty minutes, he pulled out his phone and called Shiro.

 

“And you just… Laughed?”  
“Not even a cute little giggle kind of laugh, but ridiculous, out of control, _barely able to breathe and tearing up_ kind of laugh. Hysterical. I probably looked insane.”  
“This is bad.”  
“I know! What do I do now?”  
“Maybe try to actually flirt with him? Be honest?”  
“I can’t do that!” Keith whined, “Shiro, I was so terrified. I know what a panic attack feels like, and this almost felt like the beginning of one. This is not good.”  
“Why are you so scared?”  
“Because! Because he’s so confident and he knows what he likes, because he literally called himself the king of flirting, and he knows things, and his smile makes my knees all shaky, and every time I say something remotely risky I regret it exactly three seconds later and this is a disaster.”  
“Then just use that game you’re playing,” Shiro spoke calmly, “you already did it once. Just literally describe yourself and see if that’s his type. “  
Keith considered this. “Do you think he’ll notice?”  
“I don’t know,” Shiro sighed, “one way to find out.”  
“This is a bad idea.”  
“You’re out of good ones. Did you even have good ones to begin with?”  
“Your advice sucks.”  
“You’ve said it before, and yet you keep coming back for it.”  
“I’m desperate.”

* * *

 

About a week later, Keith found himself knocking on Lance’s door with a tray of cookies in his hands. Lance opened it with his regular smile. “Keith!” he said, “ooh, are those chocolate chip cookies?”  
“Um, yes,” Keith said, “I decided to do some baking and ended up making too many. Thought you might want some, is Hunk there?”

“No,” Lance said, “believe it or not, he’s with Pidge and Shiro, they’re doing some nerdy stuff together. Don’t ask me, it sounded too boring for me. But I’m always up for cookies! I’m watching a movie, do you want to come in?”

“Um, sure,” Keith nodded and followed Lance inside. Lance practically inhaled the cookies as he ate them one after the other, and Keith reminded him to leave some for Hunk. They sat down on the couch to watch the movie, but Keith’s mind was elsewhere.  
“So I thought about it,” he told Lance, who immediately lowered the volume of the movie, “and I have a guess. For our game,” he added when Lance looked momentarily confused.  
“Huh,” Lance seemed to be amused by the fact that Keith was the one to bring it up, “alright, go on.”  
“How about… Someone to balance you out? Maybe someone quiet,” Keith began, his heart doing somersaults in his chest, “someone who listens when you talk, but also makes you want to listen. Someone who would… Challenge you, perhaps, but at the end of the day would be there for you.”

Lance blinked. “That sounds… Weirdly accurate. But not specific enough, I won’t count it as a win.”  
“Okay,” Keith took a deep breath, “more specific. Well, you said strong is a good thing, so maybe they’re fit. They work out. They can probably kick your ass in a fight.”  
“Nobody can kick my ass in a fight,” Lance countered.  
“I beg to differ. Okay, they’re also not obvious about it. You know? I feel like you always act very boldly around everyone who catches your eye, but when it comes down to it… When you cut the bullshit and you consider something seriously, when it’s not about some silly fleeting crush but actual feelings, I think you’d want someone who’s more subtle, someone who is your friend first.”  
Lance squinted at him, “damn, you’re good.”

Keith turned so that his whole body was facing Lance now. “Really? Did I get it right?”  
“That doesn’t mean you’ve won!” Lance turned to face him as well, “if I get my guess correctly, then it’s a draw.”  
“Alright then,” Keith’s hands were shaking, so he hid them in his sleeves, “guess.”  
And then the doorbell rang and they both jumped. Hunk wouldn’t ring his own doorbell, and Lance wasn’t waiting for anyone else, so they both approached the door curiously.

It was Mrs. Robinson, smiling kindly at them as usual.  
“Ah, there you boys are!” she clapped her hands together, “I tried your door too, now I see why you didn’t answer,” she addressed Keith, “either of you nice boys knows how to fix a sink by any chance? My sink is leaking terribly.”  
Keith and Lance exchanged looks.  
“Hunk definitely could do that,” Lance said, “but I can barely hold a screwdriver properly.”  
“What about you, Sunshine?” Mrs. Robinson smiled at Keith.  
Keith ignored Lance’s giggling at the sweet nickname. “I can fix a sink,” he said, “I’ll just grab my toolbox and come over, alright?”  
“That would be great, thank you dear!” Mrs. Robinson returned to her apartment, and Keith turned to look at Lance.

“I guess the movie’s off then,” he shrugged, “we’ll finish that conversation later.”  
“Oh but I’m coming with you,” Lance said.  
“What? Why?”  
“With our history of psychotic neighbors, I’m not going to let you go in there alone,” Lance said, as if it was obvious.  
“She’s an old lady, Lance,” Keith rolled his eyes, “I think I can manage.”  
“Oh but wouldn’t it be hilarious if I have to save you from this sweet old lady?” Lance grinned, “besides, the movie is boring and I have nothing better to do. I may as well watch you attempt to fix a sink. Maybe you’ll fail miserably and I’ll finally have the chance to laugh at you.”  
“I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly capable of fixing a sink without breaking a sweat,” said Keith proudly.  
“Sure you can, _Sunshine_ ,” Lance’s smile was so pretty it sent shivers down Keith’s spine, so he just turned around and went back to his apartment to grab his tools.

A few minutes later he was kneeling beneath the sink in Mrs. Robinson’s bathroom, examining the cause of the leak. Lance was sitting on a chair behind him, watching, and he was surprisingly quiet.  
“I brought you some lemonade,” said Mrs. Robinson, “you boys like lemonade, don’t you?”  
Lance took the glass from her eagerly, “Mrs. Robinson, you’re the best,” he said, “do you need anything else done? _Sunshine_ here is so handy, he can fix anything.”

Mrs. Robinson laughed heartily, “oh I’m so grateful for his help! I am perfectly fine otherwise, it’s just this sink. But isn’t he wonderful? Such nice hands, and so handsome too! How come you’re still single, young man? Oh, I happen to know a very pretty girl who works at the grocery store, and she’s single too.”  
Lance almost chocked on his lemonade as he stifled a laugh. Keith chuckled lightly. “Thank you, Mrs. Robinson, but I’m not... Um, let’s just say that my heart is already taken.”  
“Ah, well I hope you woo your girl then,” said Mrs. Robinson, “I’m sure she won’t be able to resist such a charming young lad as you. Oh, but why aren’t you drinking your lemonade?”  
“I’m sorry,” Keith shrugged, “I don’t really like lemonade. Lance can have mine as well.”  
Lance didn’t argue as he took Keith’s glass, but Mrs. Robinson frowned. “Oh, I’ll find something else for you then. Apple juice? Tea? Water?”  
“It’s fine,” Keith smiled politely, “I’m not thirsty.”  
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Robinson waved a hand at him, “I’ll bring you water, and I won’t take no for an answer. You must stay hydrated!”

She walked away and Keith then proceeded to take off his sweater, because he was getting hot. As he straightened his shirt, he caught Lance staring at him.  
“What are you looking at?” Keith asked.  
“Nothing,” Lance visibly blushed, but he didn’t shy away from Keith’s eyes, “just… The way you look.”  
Keith’s face reddened at once. He didn’t know what to say to that, although he desperately wanted Lance to elaborate.

 “So _your heart is taken?_ ” Lance changed the subject.  
“What, do you think I should tell her that I’m very homosexual instead?” Keith raised his eyebrows.  
“She’s very open minded,” Lance mused, “you know, she thought that Pidge is a transgender guy, and she was really cool about it. I don’t think she would mind.”

Lance leaned back again and yawned, looking a little sleepy. Keith had a sudden urge to go up there and kiss him on the mouth. Instead, he turned back to the sink. He wasn’t going to say that his heart really was taken, and that it was slowly killing him from inside. Then Mrs. Robinson was back, and she handed him a glass of water. “Drink,” she said, “I won’t have you dehydrate in my apartment.”  
Out of politeness, Keith decided to accept the glass. He drank almost all of it before he glanced at Lance and realized that he was asleep.

“Did he just _fall asleep?_ ” Keith asked. He got up to his feet and approached Lance. “Hey,” he shook his shoulder a little, “Lance, wake up. It’s impolite to just fall asleep at someone else’s place. Lance?”  
The shaking didn’t work. Lance was in a suspiciously deep sleep. The realization hit so suddenly he almost tripped. He looked over at Mrs. Robinson.  
“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” she smiled, “it will be alright. I’d advise you to sit down, however, otherwise you might hit your head when you fall.”  
Then Keith felt it. He felt heavy and slow, everything around him was getting blurry and he was either sinking or floating, it was hard to tell. He wasn’t going to go down easy. He wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist and lifted him, ready to drag him away from there. He managed to take two or three steps before everything was spinning so hard that he fell to the floor on top of Lance. Then his vision went dark, and he had to give in.

* * *

 

When Keith came back to his senses, it was in a different place. It was dark and dusty, and it was moving. _A van_ , he thought to himself. He tried to move and realized that he was restrained – his legs tied together with ropes and his wrists behind his back, in what felt like handcuffs.  
He turned to his left to see Lance, tied up just like him and in the process of coming to his senses.  
“Lance,” Keith nudged him with his shoulder, “are you alright? Are you hurt?”  
Lance blinked a little and looked around, “my head hurts,” he said, “but I don’t think… Where are we? What happened?”  
“Mrs. Robinson drugged us,” said Keith darkly.

“What? No way!” Lance called with frustration, “seriously? I thought we’ve finally got a normal neighbor for once. I can’t believe that sweet old lady would do that to us! But wait, there’s no way she dragged us into this van by herself.”

“You’re right,” Keith thought about it, “I guess she was a decoy or something like that. We need to get out of here.”  
“Yes, great thinking, but how?”  
Keith looked around again. There was nothing in there that could help them, just more ropes and a bottle of water. They couldn’t see or hear the driver, which wasn’t helpful either.

Keith moved his wrists a little, getting a feel of the handcuffs. “Ugh,” he grunted, “that’s just great. If it was ropes we could untie each other, but how do we deal with cuffs?”  
_“Don’t you have a hairpin?”_ Lance asked, using his best Keith impression.  
“Oh haha, very funny,” Keith rolled his eyes, “this isn’t a time for jokes! Do you have anything on you that I can use?”

Lanced looked down at his body and considered it. “I have a safety pin in my pocket,” he said, “will that help? Can you pick the lock with a safety pin?”  
“I can try.”  
“But I can’t get it,” Lance sighed, “it’s in the front pocket of my jeans.”  
“Okay, so I’ll get it. We just need to sort of… Get my hands to your jeans.”

Lance stared at him. Keith said nothing else, he just slid down to the floor and rolled over with his back to Lance. “Just come here,” he said, “and align your pocket with my hands.”  
He could hear Lance shuffling closer to him. Then he could feel him, his body pressed to him from behind.

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to you,” Lance said quietly from behind him, and Keith’s skin was immediately covered with goosebumps. Lance’s breath in his hair was unbearable. He concentrated on his hands, trying to feel Lance’s pocket. Instead, he found skin, and he realized with horror that his hand almost slipped under Lance’s waistband.

“That’s not my pocket,” Lance said helpfully.  
“Yes, thank you,” Keith sighed, “you could help me a little, you know. I can’t really see what’s going on there.”  
“I’d be lying if I say that I don’t enjoy this a little bit.”  
“Lance! Focus!” Keith’s voice was desperate, but his face was very red and he wished this was happening under very different circumstances.

“Okay, here,” Lance shifted behind him and Keith’s hand finally found his pocket. After some wiggling and after taking out a piece of gum and two receipts, Keith fished out the safety pin and opened it. He straightened it and bent the end first, then he tried to find the lock of his cuffs, but with the awkward angle and the fact that he couldn’t see what he was doing, it was virtually impossible. He sighed.

“Roll over,” he told Lance.  
“Sorry?”  
“I’ll try to free your hands first,” Keith explained, “I can’t reach my locks properly. Turn around.”

Lance obeyed and they were now lying back to back. This didn’t work either, so they sat up and tried again. Keith finally realized that there was a double lock, and from there it didn’t take him long to break open the cuffs. Lance untied their legs, and then Keith tried to instruct him so he could free him from his cuffs as well. Before they had the chance to try that, however, the van stopped moving and the engine fell silent.

Keith looked at Lance with concern – they had to think fast. They heard male voices outside the van, but they couldn’t make out any words. Lance started gesturing at Keith, first pressing a finger to his lips to indicate that they had to remain quiet. Then he started making very weird gestures, and Keith just stared at him.  
Lance tried again, and Keith began to understand – whoever put them in that van, was expecting to find two docile young boys, cuffed and tied up. They didn’t expect them to be capable of fighting, so Lance was proposing an attack. They propped themselves close to the door, ready to fight.

When it opened, Keith didn’t see who was in front of him. He kicked forcefully with both of his feet and jumped out of the van, finding himself in a parking lot.  
Their plan failed almost immediately. There were more men than they expected - Lance managed to fight off one of them, but then another one who came to grab him from behind brought him down to his knees in a heartbeat. Keith could probably take on two or three of them, since they weren’t that much bigger than him, but his restrained hands held him back and he was rapidly lowered to his knees as well.

“Feisty,” one of the men commented.  
“Not for long,” another one said, “cuff this one again. Bring them in, I’ll handle things with the doctor. We need to be in the next spot in thirty minutes, so hurry up.”  
Keith watched as Lance was being cuffed again, and then there were guns pointed at them. “Seriously?” Lance groaned, “is there anyone in this country who doesn’t own a gun?” someone told him to be quiet and pushed him forward, then they were led into a house. Keith tried to remember anything he could from their surroundings, but there was nothing to tell them where they were.

They were brought into what seemed to be a reception room. A blonde woman sat at the front desk and she smiled at the men as she looked at them through her thin glasses. One of the men leaned over her desk.  
“Sylvia,” he greeted her, “have you done something with your hair? It looks different.”  
“Finally, a man who notices,” Sylvia’s smile was charming, “just a new haircut. You look different too, Mark. Have you been – oh, what’s this?” she gestured at Keith and Lance with her pen, finally noticing them.  
“A delivery,” Mark answered, “for Doctor Morrison.”  
“Oh,” Sylvia’s face fell, “they don’t have a free room yet, it’ll be a while. You can wait right here for now.”  
Mark sighed. “We have plenty of other work to do; we don’t have time for this. Can we just cuff them to the couch? Will you be able to take it from here?”

Sylvia examined Keith and Lance with her eyes, as if wondering whether she could take them in a fight. “Fine,” she said, “it’s not really my problem anyway. Just make sure they’re secure.”  
The men led Keith and Lance to the couch, which was right in front of the front desk. Their hands were temporarily freed, though the guns pointed at their heads warned them not to make any sudden movements. Then the cuffs returned, but a bit differently – Keith’s left hand was cuffed to one of the armrests, Lance’s right hand was cuffed to the other, and their remaining hands were tied together with the rope that was previously used to tie their legs.

“Be good boys,” said Mark, “don’t make Sylvia come at you with a syringe, you wouldn’t like it.” Keith and Lance both protested with a series of questions – what is going on, where are they, who are those men and so on – but the men ignored them. Mark left the keys to their handcuffs on Sylvia’s desk and they all walked back outside.

Keith and Lance exchanged a nervous look. Then they looked at Sylvia, as if waiting for answers from her.  
“Um, Sylvia?” Lance tried. She looked up at him with a bored look. “Do you mind telling us what’s going on?”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Sylvia waved a hand at him, “you’ll be dead soon anyway, so it won’t matter.”  
“Right,” said Lance, “but it would be nice to know how exactly we are going to die, and why.”

Sylvia leaned her elbows against the desk and rested her chin on her hands, “you’re going to get a surgery. You look like two healthy boys, I bet they’ll get many organs out of you.”  
“What?” Keith gasped.  
“Organs, they’ll take your organs. Then sell them. Organs are expensive, guys.”  
“Look, I know I’m pretty,” said Lance, “and I’ve been often told that I’m beautiful on the inside, so I understand the appeal, but I’m way too young to die!”  
“I don’t care enough to respond to that,” said Sylvia, “so just sit here quietly while I go back to playing on my computer, alright? I don’t want to hear you. And Mark was serious when he said that I can be quite handy with a syringe, so don’t test me.”

Sylvia turned in her chair to the computer, and she wasn’t facing them anymore. Keith looked at Lance, his mind racing with possible ways to get out of the situation. Lance’s look told him that his mind was occupied as well. Then Lance’s face lit up a little with what seemed to be a plan. He kept his eyes on Sylvia as he slowly moved their joined hands to his jeans. Keith was confused for a moment, then he realized that Lance still had the safety pin in his pocket. He took it out and carefully placed it in Keith’s hand, knowing that between the two of them Keith was the one more likely to free himself with it. Still, they had to take care of Sylvia. Lance started using hand gestures again, and even though Keith was pretty sure he understood him, there was no way to say for sure. They both hoped that they understood each other, because they didn’t have much time.

“Um, Sylvia,” Lance called again. She grunted with annoyance, then pressed pause on the game and turned to look at them. “What?”  
“Before they brought us here I kind of drank two whole glasses of drugged lemonade,” Lance said quite honestly, “and then they just brought us here. So my bladder is really, really full.”  
“I don’t care,” Sylvia shrugged, “what, do you think I’m stupid enough to let you go to the bathroom? I’m not.”  
“Okay,” Lance shrugged, “um, one question though. If I pee in my pants right now, who is going to clean after me? Because if we have quite some time to wait, then the three of us are going to sit in a room with a huge puddle of urine, and that must be unpleasant. What do you think?”

Sylvia stared at him blankly for a long moment. Then she grunted again and got up from her chair.  
“I’m going to free you,” she said, holding up the keys to the cuffs, “and you’re going to come with me, quietly. The syringe is ready in my hand,” she showed it to him, “so don’t try anything stupid. And you,” she turned to Keith, “don’t even think about trying anything, either. There are people outside, people in the next room, cameras at the front gates to the parking lot, you won’t get far even if you try to run, somehow. Alright, pretty boy, come with me.”

Lance smiled at her as she freed him from his cuff. “Do you think I’m pretty? You have very beautiful eyes, Sylvia.”  
Keith rolled his eyes, but Sylvia smiled back at Lance. “Don’t try to play with me, I know you’re practically a dead man. Now go.”  
With a syringe pressed to his neck, Lance walked in front of Sylvia and they went out of the room. The moment they were out of sight, Keith used the pin to pick the lock on his cuff. After doing it blindly in the van, it seemed ridiculously easy now. His cuff opened in seconds and he leaped from the couch to Sylvia’s desk.

She was right, there was no way for them to run away, but they could always call for help. Keith found the phone – in hindsight he was probably supposed to call the police in this situation, but he was in panic and wasn’t thinking clearly, so his fingers automatically dialed the only number he knew by heart.

“Shiro,” he whispered into the phone the moment he heard the other’s voice, “there’s no time to explain. I’m with Lance, they’re going to kill us, we don’t know where we are. Is there a way for you to trace this call?”  
There was a second of silence. Then Shiro’s voice addressed someone else to the room. “We can figure out an address if we have a phone number, right? It’s a landline. Keith, is there anything you can tell me about what’s going on?”

“We’re fine, for now,” Keith spoke, “all I know is that we’re in some – it looks like a house from the outside, but I guess it’s some sort of clinic. They want to take our organs and sell them. Also, lots of security and people are armed here, so don’t play the hero again, and get the police involved in this. Oh! And Mrs. Robinson drugged us, so you should probably start the investigation there.”  
He then heard Lance’s voice again, which made him realize he had no time. “I have to go, please hurry,” he whispered into the phone and hung up. He then leaped back to the couch, clicked the cuff back into place and tried to look casual and slightly bored.

Sylvia and Lance walked back into the room, still exchanging flirty remarks.  
“Huh,” said Sylvia as she looked at Keith, “I honestly thought you’d try to run.”  
“I’m not an idiot,” said Keith while he was being tied to Lance again, “I know we don’t have a chance.”  
“Good boys,” said Sylvia with a smile. Then she went back to her desk and resumed her game on the computer.

Lance looked at Keith with a question in his eyes, since he had no way to know whether Keith had succeeded. Keith nodded slowly, and a little smile appeared on Lance’s lips.  
Now they had nothing else to do but wait. They sat quietly on that couch and Keith was really annoyed by Lance, who started tapping his foot and making strange noises with his mouth.

“Can you stop?” Keith whispered.  
“I’m anxious,” Lance said, raising his eyebrows, “we’re going to die, Keith. Aren’t you anxious?”  
“Whatever happens, there’s nothing we can do,” said Keith, “so there’s no point being anxious about it.”  
“That’s right,” said Sylvia without looking at them, “you can just say goodbye and stuff. Are you two brothers?”

Lance and Keith both looked at her with the most incredulous, _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ look they could muster. Anyone with half a brain would assume that they weren’t related after one glance at them.  
“What?” she looked at them when she didn’t hear an answer, “you could be adopted. What then, friends?”  
“Yeah,” said Lance, “we’re friends. Started out as enemies, but then I decided to forgive him.”  
Keith raised his eyebrows at Lance. “Oh, is that how that story goes?”  
“No offense, but you two have issues,” Sylvia said, “even though Tall-Skinny-Boy is totally into me, there’s so much unresolved sexual tension between you that it makes me sick.”  
Keith’s face flushed red instantly. Lance started laughing out loud, which untied the tight knot in the pit of Keith’s stomach. Of course, she was just messing with them, and Keith was overreacting.

But then someone else entered the room, and Lance stopped laughing. A woman – supposedly a nurse – turned to Sylvia. “Room 4 is ready,” she said, pulling down her mask, “you can bring them in. Do you need assistance?”  
“I could use a hand,” said Sylvia. Keith and Lance were ushered by the nurse and Sylvia, no longer tied to each other but with their wrists cuffed behind their back again. They were led into what looked like a hospital room, and there was a bed for each of them. They were then cuffed to the beds, and they were both given hospital gowns to change into. It was a little difficult to do with one hand cuffed, but they managed.  
When that was over, the nurse drew blood from the both of them, saying that they had to run some tests first. She wasn’t friendly and didn’t respond to Lance’s attempts to make her talk. Finally, they were left alone in the room.

“Whom did you call?” Lance asked.  
“Shiro,” said Keith, “I think he was still with the others. I don’t know how long it’s going to take them, but we have to stall. I think we’re okay now, as long as these people are running tests and playing hospital with us. But the moment they’re getting us into an OR, we’re dead.”  
“What are we supposed to do?” Lance looked a lot less relaxed now that he realized nothing was certain yet.  
“We definitely can’t run away,” Keith pointed out, “do you think we can hide?”  
“Where?” Lance asked, “we can’t even get out of this room. There’s an office right in front of it, and the door is opened, and there’s someone inside. They know this place better than us, wherever we try to hide, they’ll find us. It won’t buy us much time.”  
Keith had to admit that Lance was right, and there was nothing for them to do at all. He felt despair looming over him.

“Well,” Lance said, “what if… What if we wait until the last moment? We pretend to cooperate up until they come to take us to the OR. And then we put up a fight.”  
“How much of a fight can we put up, cuffed and with Sylvia’s stupid syringe at our throat?”  
“Well, let’s hope they’ll lower their defenses until then,” said Lance, “whoever comes to get us, we can take them. They won’t send more than two people for that, will they? Then we barricade ourselves in this room, lock ourselves in the bathroom and try to keep them away as long as possible. Hopefully it won’t even come to this, and the guys will come to save us before that point.”

“Okay,” Keith nodded, “we wait, we hope, but if there’s no other option, we go down fighting.”  
“I must say,” Lance smiled, “we make a pretty good team.”  
“We do, don’t we?” Keith smiled too, “we’re handling this relatively well. I swear if it was anyone else in my place, they would have no idea what you were trying to say with your strange hand gestures.”  
“But you do,” Lance’s voice turned a little softer.  
“But I do.”

“Can you believe that this is the _third neighbor_ in a row who stabs one of us in the back? What’s up with that?”  
“Yes,” Keith sighed, “it’s as if this is taken from a terribly written book.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lance smirked, “nobody would write such crap. It’s just our absurd lives.”  
“Wait,” Keith realized something, “we still need to get out of the cuffs, and the safety pin is in my jeans. And they took my jeans.”  
“Shit.”  
“Is there something else I can use?”

They looked around the room for anything useful. Keith spotted a pen on the small cabinet beside Lance. “Can you toss me the pen?” he asked.  
“How are you going to do this with a pen?”  
“I can use the cap as a shim,” Keith explained, “it’s a little different than what I’ve done so far, but it’s still pretty easy. Can you get it?”  
Lance had to get out of the bed and drag it with him to reach the cabinet, but he retrieved the pen and threw it at Keith. Then Keith remembered that their cuffs were double locked, which is why it took longer for him to temper with them in the first place. He sighed.  
“What?” Lance stared at him.  
“I can use a shim only after I deal with the double locking mechanism first,” he said, “but to access that I need something a lot smaller than the pen cap.”  
They fell quiet for a moment.  
“The nurse has the keys,” said Lance, “we need to take down the nurse.”  
“So we’ll wait until the very last moment,” said Keith, “and then we act with everything we have, and hope for the best.”  
Lance nodded, and they fell silent again, both lost in thoughts about their upcoming doom.

Keith wished a thousand times to wake up from this nightmare. He was the most terrified he’s ever been in his life. He fought to keep his face calm for Lance’s sake, but he felt nauseous and dizzy with terror. When he looked over at Lance, he seemed like a mirror of himself – visibly forcing himself to breathe slowly, but offering a weak smile whenever he noticed that Keith was watching him. They were both putting on a brave face for each other, he realized.  
A few times someone came in to check on them, but nobody answered their questions and it was hard to tell when the right moment to strike will be. At last they heard a nurse talk to someone just outside their room. The person told the nurse to “prepare the first patient”, which was all they needed to hear. She came in and approached Lance, which made Keith sick to his stomach. He’d much rather take it on himself than watch Lance being taken away to his certain death.

While the nurse was with her back to him, Keith grabbed a lamp and sprang at her. He hit the nurse on the head, although perhaps not very efficiently, because it took him a few more hits before she was down. They didn’t know how much noise they made, but it was now or never. Keith searched her pockets for the keys. Once they were free of the handcuffs, they started barricading the door with everything in the room. They moved the large cupboard full of medical supplies first, then stacked the beds on top of each other in front of it, then added the desk, the three chairs and the two bedside cabinets as well. When the pile was ready, it suddenly didn’t feel like much. They tied the nurse with sheets in case she’d wake up, locked the only window in the room and walked into the bathroom. There was no way to lock the bathroom door, so they just closed it and sat down on the floor in the corner beside the sink.

“This is it,” Lance said, “we can only hope for the best now.”  
“The barricade won’t hold.”  
“I know,” Lance’s voice was quiet now, “but I’m going to hope anyway.”  
“What if they come in?” Keith’s voice dropped to a whisper.  
“Then I’m going to kick them in the nuts,” Lance said, “and if it’s women I’ll punch them in the boobs.”  
Keith let out a nervous laugh. “You would never.”  
“I will,” Lance insisted, “I will, if it means that it’ll buy us a few more minutes. Seconds. Whatever, I’ll punch them and I’ll kick them and I’ll get them away from us.”

Keith was very aware of how their shoulders were pressed together, and how his pulse was so fast that Lance could probably feel it through his arm.  
“Are we going to get all sappy now?” Keith’s voice was still a whisper, “say things like ‘we’ve had a good run’ and ‘I’ll always remember you’?”  
“Doesn’t sound like us,” Lance chuckled, “but I guess… I guess if we die in a few minutes, I’ll regret not saying anything.”  
“Then say something,” Keith turned a little to look at him, “it doesn’t have to be sappy or catchy. Just something small, so there will be no regrets.”  
“Okay,” Lance smiled, “I’ll tell you my type.”

“But I’ve already guessed it.”  
Lance placed a hand over Keith’s mouth and looked straight into his eyes. “Shut up and listen,” he said, “yes, you guessed it. My type is the quiet one, the one who is my counterpart. My type is someone who can somehow both infuriate me and make me laugh at the same time. My type is – it’s this person… This _guy_ who won’t get out of my head, even if I tell myself that I hate him, he just sticks like an annoying piece of gum and I can’t get him out of there. My type is this strong, smart, talented, brave guy who is a rock on the outside but really caring and generous on the inside. In a way, you can say that my type is _the boy next door._ ”  
He let go of Keith’s mouth, but Keith wished his hand could stay there, because his face was red, and his lips were trembling, and he was more emotional than he realized.

But his chance to speak never came, because a loud crash came from the other room where someone was trying to break through their barricade. Keith and Lance exchanged a look of panic and sprung to their feet, ready for one last fight. There was another loud crash and Keith heard Lance take a deep, shaky breath. “Just so we’re clear,” said Lance without looking at him, “I was talking about you. It was this clever way for me to say that I like you, see?”  
“Yeah, Lance, I got it,” Keith let out a nervous laugh. There was another crash and this time there was definitely furniture falling to the floor.

The moment the door to the bathroom opened, Keith and Lance started waving their fists frantically, unleashing hell on whoever came inside. Within three seconds Keith found himself with his face pressed to the floor and a gun pressed to his back. There was a lot of shouting in the room, but Keith could barely hear anything over the insanely fast beat of his heart.  
“Wait, these look like patients,” someone said above him, “they must be the civilians. What were the names?”  
“Are you Keith and – whatever that second name is?” asked the guy who had his gun pressed to Keith’s back.  
“Yes!” he heard Lance yell. Then they were both released and the men – who were clearly policemen now that he could see them properly – escorted them out of the room.  
As they were led outside of the building, they could see that it was surrounded. There were sirens, policemen everywhere and people in white robes cuffed and taken away.

They were given back their clothes and were questioned by the police, and only when they were finished and exhausted they were allowed to go back to their friends. Upon seeing them, Hunk pulled them both into a very tight hug, Shiro ruffled their hair with affection and expressed frustration due to how long it took to rescue them, and Pidge punched them both excitedly on the shoulder and demanded to hear the whole story. The ride back in Shiro’s car was full of chatter. First, Hunk told them all about what happened on their side since Keith’s phone call. He explained how they found the address and contacted the police, how the police came to interrogate Mrs. Robinson and refused to give them any information, how they drove there on their own despite the police telling them not to, how Allura was freaking out back at their apartment, and how Shiro almost assaulted an officer when he was told that he couldn’t get inside the building to save his friends.

Lance, in return, told their part of the story, exaggerating their heroism and making it sound like a cool action movie, leaving out the part where Keith accidentally almost shoved his hand down his pants, along with the part of his heartfelt confession – which suddenly seemed very unreal to Keith, and he was wondering whether it could have been some sort of panic induced hallucination.

When they came back, Hunk cooked dinner for everyone and Lance told the story again especially for Allura. It was the first time she ever listened to him intently and didn’t interrupt him once, and Lance seemed to be pleased with that.  
When dinner was over, Keith went back to his place to take a long shower and wash away everything that happened to them that day. When he came back into his bedroom and put on some clothes, a song started playing.

He knew it was by Katy Perry, but he didn’t recognize the song. He approached the window and sure enough, Lance was waiting for him.  
“What song is this?” Keith asked.  
“Really?” Lance looked surprised, “it’s quite a well known song. It’s called ‘Unconditionally’.”  
“Huh,” said Keith, “and what’s the hidden message this time?”  
“Well,” Lance thought about it, “there is a mention of dirty laundry in there, so maybe that’s my way to tell you that you stink.”  
“Oh,” said Keith, “silly me, I almost thought you were being romantic.”  
“Even more romantic than I already am?” Lance raised his eyebrows, “I don’t think that’s physically possible. Speaking of being romantic… Listen, about what I said – “  
“I’m not having this conversation through a window,” Keith interrupted him.  
“Do you want to come over?”  
“No, your place is full of people. You come over.”

Lance didn’t argue. A few moments later there was a quiet knock on his door, and Keith opened it. He led Lance into his living room and they sat down on the couch.  
They were silent for a very long moment, both waiting for the other to speak.  
“Look,” Lance said at last, “I thought I was going to die regretting that I didn’t say anything.”  
“And instead you ended up alive, regretting that you did say something.”  
Lance looked taken aback. “What? No. I regret that I had to say it while wearing a hospital gown, on the floor in a bathroom, with an unconscious nurse in the next room, fearing for my life behind a barricade. I don’t regret what I said.”  
“You don’t?”

“No,” Lance sighed, “but I know what you’re going to tell me. Look, I get it. A while back I kind of thought that maybe you like me. And then a few days ago – I don’t know if you remember, but I asked you whether you were flirting with me, and you just laughed as if the mere thought of it was hysterical to you. And don’t worry, I’m not mad about it or anything. But it got me thinking… Of course. You’re all cool and smart and amazing. You pick locks and juggle and play the piano simultaneously, because that’s just who you are. And when we played the game and I asked you, you said that you want someone smart. I’m not someone smart, I do stupid stuff and joke around and I’m just not a brilliant person overall. So I get it, and it’s okay, because I don’t care. I really fucking like you Keith, all bullshit aside, and if there will be nothing between us… So be it. I won’t let it ruin our friendship, and you don’t owe me anything, don’t even feel sorry for me. I’ll get over it, I promise.”

Keith had heard enough. He moved closer to Lance and put his hand over Lance’s mouth.

“My type,” he said, his voice shaking, “is my counterpart. He’s loud and obnoxious, but he’s also very positive and energetic. My type thinks it’s funny to wake me up just to put on a lullaby for me. He is tall, and strong, and smart, even if he doesn’t think he is. He is creative and has great thinking under pressure. My type can pretend that he is in love with himself, when he actually cares about his friends’ feelings more than his own safety. He will put on a brave face for me because he doesn’t want me to think that he’s scared, but we can see through each other easily. In a way, but maybe in a different way than yours, my type is _the boy next door_.”

He finally took his hand off of Lance’s mouth. They stared at each other.  
“So that was me, right? Just to make it clear,” Lance’s lips curved into a smile.  
“I’m going to kiss you on the mouth now,” Keith said, “and you’re going to be quiet, at last. Is that alright by you?”

“I guess I’ll have to agree to that,” Lance said, and Keith immediately leaned in until their lips met. It was sweet and happy, they both kept breaking into smiles in the middle of the kiss. They kissed for a long while, fingers twisted in hair, lips colliding over and over again like waves meeting the shore, tiny gasps of air escaping here and there, cheeks flushed and eyelids fluttering.

“Wait,” Lance stopped all of a sudden, “so back when I asked whether you’re flirting with me, and you started laughing as if you’re a psychotic murderer about to reveal your plan to skin me alive…”  
“I got nervous,” Keith shrugged, “I wasn’t ready to admit that.”  
“Do you have any idea what you did to me? I lay under my bed for four hours, refusing to face the world. I felt _so stupid_.”  
“I’m sorry!”  
“You better make it up to me,” Lance demanded.  
“And how should I do that, exactly?” Keith couldn’t hide his smile.  
“Oh, I’ll figure something out,” said Lance as he leaned in again and pressed another kiss into Keith’s mouth.

And as they kissed, Keith cursed Lance in his head for making him fall so hard and so fast, for being so irresistible and knowing it, for being a stupid goofball but also incredibly good for him.

He hoped he was good for him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the epilogue in a few hours as well (but it's really short and it's just to answer a few questions and bring this to a conclusion)  
> Basically... This is it. Thank you for all of the positive comments, I always appreciate feedback and I love all of you <3


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This short epilogue is mainly to provide a little more information on the chaos that I unleashed during the last chapter. And also to bring the boys to a cute little conclusion, because I felt like we didn't get enough fluff so there you go.

The whole group was gathered in Lance’s and Hunk’s living room, waiting for Pidge. She was supposed to meet with one of the police officers who was a friend of hers and promised to provide her with as many details as he could about the case of their kidnapping.  
Allura and Shiro sat on the floor, Lance had his arm around Keith’s shoulders on the couch, and Hunk received the pizza from the delivery guy and finally placed it on the coffee table. They all grabbed their slices and listened as Allura told them about some book she recently finished reading. Pidge joined them at last, and they all fell silent as they eagerly listened to what she had to tell them.

“Okay,” she said, clearing her throat, “so here’s the full story, more or less. Mrs. Robinson, who isn’t even Mrs. Robinson but is actually _Helena Gregorovich_ , has a daughter. That daughter desperately needs a heart transplant, but for whatever reason they’re not able to get it. I should also probably mention that they are both wanted criminals. Helena Gregorovich has been on the run since 1976! That’s wild. Anyway, her daughter needs a heart and Helena was in touch with these people who do all sorts of dirty work. Let me jump to that clinic thing though, because it’s ridiculous. In that building, alongside an actual dentist who had real clients and everything, was this fucking underground illegal operating room. They paid those middle men to bring in people who _supposedly_ won’t be missed. Then they took away whatever organs they managed to harvest and sold them through whatever connections... Man, it’s a whole web of criminals. Back to Helena Gregorovich though! So she knew those men who do all kinds of dirty work, and they told her that they could get the heart for her daughter if she could find someone who won’t be missed. I don’t know why the fuck she would pick the two of you, honestly, that lady is probably out of her mind by now. Or maybe she was just desperate and didn’t think it would backfire so badly – but I mean, you have managed to avoid the police for so many years, _what the fuck Helena?_ ”  
“Pidge,” Shiro commented softly, “you’re getting off topic.”  
“Sorry,” Pidge sighed, “anyway, apparently her target was initially Keith. She said that, and I quote, _‘he seemed strong and firm’_ , whatever that means. But then Lance insisted on coming along, and she figured what the hell, more money for her guys. Maybe she thought we’d never suspect her? But of course we would, after you were assaulted twice by a neighbor on this floor. Anyway! There was enough evidence to put more than 30 people behind bars, guys. We did some amazing job with this. Which was a terrible accident and I’m sorry you had to go through this, but something good did come out of it.”  
“How did this happen to us?” Lance mused, “I mean, three disasters in a row, that’s messed up. I’m not talking to any of my neighbors ever again.”  
Keith elbowed him lightly in the ribs.  
“Oh come on, you know I don’t mean you,” Lance told him.  
“It would be nice to hear you say it,” Keith shrugged.  
“Fine,” Lance rolled his eyes, “I’m not talking to any of my neighbors ever again, except for my precious boyfriend. Happy?”

“Ew, stop it, you disgust me with your happiness,” said Pidge, “and speaking of neighbors! You have a new one already. But Allura can tell you about that.”  
Everyone looked to Allura, and she smiled.  
“Don’t worry,” she said, “it’s my uncle, Coran. He had to move out of his old place and he asked me to help him find a new one, so I recommended this apartment. He doesn’t know about everything that happened, by the way, so don’t tell him. I don’t want to scare him away.”  
“No offense,” said Lance, “and it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I still won’t eat or drink anything he might offer me.”  
Everyone laughed at that, but nobody argued.

The evening was spent pleasantly and everyone had a good time. Eventually Shiro and Allura left, Hunk went to his room to work on a project, and Pidge fell asleep on the couch while Keith and Lance talked in the kitchen. They decided to go over to Keith’s apartment so they wouldn’t wake her up.

There, Keith led Lance into his bedroom.  
“Is it crazy that I’m kind of thankful for all of the terrible things we went through?” Lance asked as he sat down on the bed.  
“Yes and no,” said Keith as he changed into some sweatpants, “I mean, I understand what you’re saying. Good things did come out of it. Many bad people are behind bars now, we learned a lot about ourselves, we grew closer and… You know. But we shouldn’t be thankful for these horrible people who put us through horrible things. The good things happened thanks to us. We need to be thankful for us.”

“You’re right,” said Lance. He grabbed a handful of Keith’s shirt and pulled him onto the bed beside him. “I’ll be thankful for other things,” he said, “I’m thankful for you being my neighbor. And for my music not letting you sleep and annoying you enough to come yell at me. And I’m thankful for you running out of salt…”

“And you running out of sugar,” Keith reminded him.  
“Yeah, about that,” Lance bit down on his lip, “we had plenty of sugar. Hunk always buys extra.”  
“What?” Keith stared at him.  
“I just wanted an excuse to come talk to you,” Lance shrugged, “tell me you’d let me in if I just showed up and said ‘let’s hang’.”  
“Well, to be honest… I didn’t bake too many cookies either.”  
“Ha! We’re idiots. Or maybe we’re incredibly clever. I like that one better, so I’m also thankful for us being so smart and persistent.”  
“What is it, Thanksgiving? Why are we thankful for things?”  
“Can’t a man express happiness once in a while?”  
“You can express it with your mouth. On my mouth. Silently.”

“You’re right, that’s probably the best way to express it.” Lance smiled slyly and leaned in to kiss Keith on the lips, which rapidly heated up and made them lose track of time as they sank into the dizzying haze of hot skin, eager mouths and sighs of pleasure.

Keith ended up half asleep with his back pressed to Lance’s chest, Lance’s arms draped around him. He kissed Lance’s knuckles as a soft wish goodnight, to which Lance whispered “do you need a lullaby?”  
“Shut up,” Keith whispered back. He listened as Lance breathed slowly and softly, and it was the best lullaby he could ever play for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can now admit that I'm rather new to the fandom and this is my first fic for this ship. It was a fascinating journey to try and understand their characters, and I hope I did a decent job.  
> I am incredibly thankful for all of the encouragement, the positive comments and just the kindness in general from all of you. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, you're all amazing, and I hope you have a wonderful day <3


End file.
